This is where me and this old girl part ways. It’s been six years that I’ve been documenting my life here. SIX! We’ve been through weight loss, infertility, daily life and all three of my babies! With that said, I think it’s best given all of the recent developments, to move on to greener and less dramatic pastures. I’d post a link but I’m sure you understand that some voyeurs are not welcome. If you enjoy reading please let me know via email or Facebook and I will share the new blog address. Thanks everyone and hope to see you on the flip side (well some of you).

I’ve heard it all when it comes to my sweet boy and I’m beginning to think I should rename him Handful or Pistol or Something Else since that is how he’s most often described. The descriptions annoy and frustrate me. My son is not bad or mean. And I don’t appreciate grown adults saying that in front of him or about him in front of their children. He’s a two-year old boy who is extremely active and entirely too smart for his own good.

I’ve been praying a lot more lately about my Buddy. Along with prayer I’ve been scouring the Internets and giving quite a bit of thought on how to help Carter with self-control, hyper-ness and occasionally hitting (hangs-head-in-shame).

I feel like I’m a reasonably intelligent and logical person and I see that discipline (we’ve tried every different way) does not seem to faze my boy in the slightest. I am also smart enough to realize that no one is perfect and I am speaking to myself when I say that. I’ve been reading about ADHD. It runs in Tom’s family so I know there is a very strong chance that he may have it too. I also tell myself he’s two years old, he’s supposed to be hyper. Then I begin to wonder, when is it too much? At what point do you call the pediatrician in to have him evaluated?

My internal Mama Bear is telling me something might be “wrong.” On the flip side the one thing I haven’t tried is eliminating sugars. This has become my next step. I’ve taken down tons of notes, installed new child-proofing devices around the house and I’m ready to give this a good fight. I’ve been very deliberate and repetitive in my new discipline routine. I’ve also added a supplement of Omega-3 Fatty Acids. My fingers are crossed as we venture into discovering what triggers my sweet angel to seemingly go crazy.

I’m pretty sure my Dad should have been an actor in the mini-series: Hatfields & McCoys. When Powers Boothe came on the screen Tom and I cracked up laughing and agreed he looks just like Chuck. What say you?

Growing up we always seem to have a fish tank or three somewhere in our house. It was a common thread that tied us all together. We loved picking out new fish and all of their accessories. I remember staring at the fish tank watching the fish swim around, such a carefree life. My Grandpa decided that he wanted a fish tank for his house, he was going to try his hand at saltwater. He knew exactly the fish he wanted and took his fish tank very seriously. He really, truly enjoyed tending to his fishes. I really enjoyed helping him pick out super-pretty fish. I always thought salt water fish were much, much cooler than the freshwater fish we had at our house. Eventually my Grandpa moved back to Missouri and the fish tank moved to my parents shed, if memory serves me. Then it lived in my brother’s living room for a while, empty. Then it eventually made its way back to my parent’s house and not too long after my Mom set up the fish tank in the little girl’s room. Since my Mom isn’t home to tend to her fish and my Dad doesn’t seem to want to put forth the effort. The fish tank was taken down, again. Only this time it was brought to my house.

I was out front weeding my flower beds when my Dad rolled up in the yard with Mom’s Mercedes. I could tell he was dropping something off but couldn’t make out just what that something was. My Dad starts to unload the fish tank and the stand and the accessories and gallons of water specifically for the fish. “Your Mom said you wanted the fish tank.” While I don’t remember saying that, my Mom assures me that I did. Before my Dad pulls off he adds that the “red fish” is at the house once I get the tank set back up. This fish is a trooper he’s lived through Carter knocking him off the table not once but twice. The second time (as I picked the poor thing out of the Barbie doll’s hair as it lied on the floor) I decided it was time to relocate him to Mammie’s house. And there he’s lived for the past year and a half.

I walk in the house and ask Tom, “Did you ever tell my parents you wanted the fish tank?” “Heather, there better not be a fish tank out front of this house!” I assured him that there was no fish tank out front but only because I had already moved it to the garage. A week had passed and I made it a point to get the fish tank back up this weekend. As I was cleaning it out I saw a sticker marking that it was made in 1992, it reminded me of my Grandpa and the fact that this was his fish tank. I can see it sitting in his living room and I can hear the excitement in his voice as he goes on about his fish. Although the hood is now broken and one of the three little girls had put a sticker on the front, it’s still Grandpa’s fish tank.

Hannah’s school had a picnic in the park for the Pre3 and Pre4 kids. The kids had a lot of fun playing at the “big” park:

Hannah started a bean plant a couple of weeks back at school and it finally started to develop:

So we planted it:

And then the cat(s) ate it. :( I tried to prop up Mr. Bean Plant with a pencil but I think it’s beyond the point of saving:

Saturday we went to the mall to see Mickey Mouse OR Minnie Mouse. The characters alternated so there was no guarantee which one you would get to meet. Hannah wanted Minnie and I thought for sure Carter would love to see Mickey. Well, after a little over an hour waiting we get five minutes from the front and Minnie switches with Mickey. Hannah was devastated. Carter was completely TERRIFIED of Mickey. He was also terrified of the Easter Bunny which I didn’t even think about until after the Mickey experience. I think I’ll now remember that he hates costumed people.

Later on Saturday night we were all hanging out at my Parent’s house. Tom was at work and my Brother and his wife just ran to the grocery so it was just my parents and I with all five kids. Hannah, Carter and my niece Jordan are playing in the yard. They are running from Carter who had the hose and just laughing and playing. When the girls wanted to out run Carter or take a break they would come in the screened in porch. I was sitting on the porch keeping an eye on them when my niece comes through the door. A little wind catcher thing (very light) falls off and bumps right next to her. We both look at each other and laugh since that seemed weird. Not two seconds later Hannah comes through the door and in an instant a kerosene lamp from the shelf above the door falls off and slams right on to her head. I screamed. Glass went everywhere and both girls started crying. We get them both out of the glass and start checking Hannah who by now has blood running past her ear and down her neck. I find the cut on her head and knew instantly that she needed some stitches. My niece is inconsolable and just keeps saying over and over again, “Hannah, Hannah, Hannah….” Hannah is crying and telling me she is so scared to get stitches and that she doesn’t want to leave her cousins. It was pandemonium. As I’m caring Hannah down the stairs to leave she tells me she needs to use the bathroom. We are heading to the powder room and Carter who is crouched on his knees is spraying water into the house! There was a good quarter-inch of water from what I could quickly see. I yell for my Dad to get Carter since I’m helping Hannah.

Mom and I rush out the door and proceed to spend the next five hours waiting and dragging the whole miserable experience out for Hannah. I got her to calm down by showing her my thumb scar where I had about four stitches put in when I was only 2. Ironically, I reminded her that Gampie had stitches that morning and now he is doing just fine. Finally the hospital finds 15 minutes of time to give us to slap three stitches on her head. Around 11:00 at night we finally make it home. We all ate dinner and not long after went to bed. Phew!

Thank God she is fine and nothing more serious happened. My family has the weirdest luck. Glass falls out of a clock and cuts my Dad’s leg at the bed bath and beyond which resulted in four stitches and not four hours after he was stitched up Hannah has a kerosene lamp fall on her head and gets three stitches. Bizarre!

I had been dreading the week of X since the beginning of school…show and tell was going to be awfully hard! We ended up printing pictures off the internet (thanks google images!) one of an “X-ray Fish” and an “Xanus’ Hummingbird.”

Xantusia and a Xylophone:

We baked cookies and while we were waiting for the oven to heat up, Carter disappeared. When I called him he came…out of the kitchen. I go in to find that he took a bite of nearly half the cookie dough shapes before we had the chance to pop them in the oven. I thought it was hysterical but Hannah was less than amused ;)

I got a hair cut and changed my color to a “normal” color. My department at work released a new dress code policy with the addition of hair styles and colors. I took the subtle hint that they didn’t enjoy my purple bangs near as much as I did!

Carter’s new favorite thing is to wear anything on his head:

Hannah had a play date with her “best friend.” It’s amazing how well they play together and they talk about each other all the time (in a positive light) when they are not around. Her Mom and I have been friends since we were kids and she once lived in the same neighborhood. I think it’s a blessing that we have daughters that are one month apart and get along swimmingly!